The End And Where It Began
by Roboninks
Summary: Thus he was reborn


The End And Where It Began

/

He was always a funny little child. Falling in love with the villains instead of the heroes. People would fault him for that in the future but it was that inevitable pull, that swooning call of desperation always did him in. Because these people were not simply villains. They were hurt. And he wanted to be the victim too. He wanted to get angry, to take what was rightfully his back but sadly he fell short at every attempt. Not like the professionals though. So as he lay there re-thinking his choices in life a razor to his wrist he looked up one last time to see a man of profound influences and was thus reborn.

/

"Hmmm? Whats all this then?" The figure grinned. "About to do yourself in? How boorrriinnggg, arent ordinary people so adorable? Millions of people are dying right now accidentally at the hands of the universe and here you lie ready to die for no reason at all."

His eyes were deadpan, ivory skin and a simple blooming scar peeked out from his left shoulder, the jumper not quite covering the truth.

"They took my gun." The man on the floor rasped.

"A logical course of action given the current situation but why, pray tell, would you die inside an abandoned building? A building such as this is my center of operations at this moment. _How_ did you get past the guards?"

The pale man shrugged best he could on the icy pavement. Where was he? An abandoned parking garage? A storage warehouse? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Not even the man leaning over him.

"Well you can't stay here. I won't have you mucking up my floors with your filthy blood."

"Are you with the Mafia?"

"Oh dear no! I am so further above it. Infact I take care of its trafficking when the money is good."

"Do you have a gun?" The dead eyed man asked, neither caring where this conversation was going or how it would end. The figure scowls above him. "Not on my floor. You already have a sharp object what do you need a gun for?"

"I am not sure if I should cut or rip. Guns do both."

"Hmm. Have you ever tried getting a hobby? Not thats its any of my business." Not that the man cared was what it sounded like.

"Is killing people a hobby?"

"It is with me darling." The suited man grinned.

"I killed people for three years and saved just as many. I think its time to find a new one."

"Quite. So go try out this new hobby of killing yourself some where else."

"Why don't you do it?"

"What?"

"Kill me. Or get one of your goons, you have goons right?"

"Well I could, but what's in it for me? Will you pay me for the clean up?"

"What is with you and messes?"

"I don't like being dirty." He stared silently up at the suited man and closed his eyes.

"How about we play a game?" He shook his head feeling the other man scowl even while his eyes were closed. "Don't be that way. Perhaps a wager could be in order. You say you have killed people correct? I will give you three people, if you shoot the right one, I will kill you personally. Sound like a plan? Free of charge all you have to do is play."

"In the war... That was when I killed people."

"Yes, well, just think of this as a war. Between me, and you. The people are simply pawns. What should it matter to someone who is going to die either way."

"What if I don't kill any of them? Will you still kill me?"

"Heavens no. Why should killing bother you? Don't tell me you wish to repent for your actions in the war? How booorriinngg~"

"... No."

"Will you tell me why then? Not that it matters, I am simply passing time here until my next phone call."

"Before you kill me I will."

"Is that a promise? Does that mean you agree to the terms?"

"Yes."

"Oh how fun~! Get up, get up!" The dark haired man clapped his hands his voice growing bubbly. Quickly he pulled out a cell phone from a hidden pocket jabbering ecstatically into it. The broken man on the ground had to push his empty body off the floor with the dealings of an end to his self cruelty. He could take a step. He could kill another in exchange for his life being disposed of. What was one more body to the mountain of corpses he had already built.

"This way, this way!" The alternate man giggled in delight. How he was enjoying this the jumper clad adult would never know.

Slowly he trailed behind the other watching as a van drove through with a screech effortlessly spitting out three bodies with a thump. Their heads were covered and mouths gagged but the genders were very distinct in the pleading.

Suddenly a gun was placed in his hand followed by a happily uttered "Ah, ah! No cheating. A bullet for them and a bullet for you!" Frankly someone else offing him would be better for his mental heath. Whatever was left of it.

He looked down at the pistol rolling it around in his hands, feeling the weight of it, studying the stripped background of his jumper compared to the jet black glory of death laying in his palms.

"Take them off. Its a game right? I have to decide who to kill?"

"Interesting, interesting!" The puppeteer grinned snapping his fingers. The coverings came off just as quickly.

A woman, mascarra running down her rosy cheeks as if she had been bawling and shaking for a while. A smell of piss was in the air, unsure of whom it was though. She had to be no less than twenty years old. A young boy perhaps fifteen sat next to her a look of frightened defiance in his eyes spray paint caked on his skin, a vandaliser for sure. And the last, a man in his late thirties, a look of fear and betrayal in his eyes, sleaze written all over him.

It was obvious who The man wanted to be killed. The snitch. It had to be the oldest. Or could it be the civilian façade was all a trick? The young woman a seductress, The vandal an information broker, The old man a snitch. Or maybe, all of the above had been whisked off the streets in the dead of nigh with no real understanding of what was happening. Until now.

The sandy haired man had a gun. That man was dangerous. That man has a choice. Who will die?

"Remove the gags too but not the woman's." She would only cry louder than those muffled sobs. The vandal immediately spat at the gun holders feet.

"I didn't do anything bloody wrong!"

"Please, please boss I didn't mean it! It just slipped out, give me another chance!" The snitch bellowed desperately at the grinning figure behind the dusty blonde.

"Alright, now gag back on the boy." The blonde commands squeezing the gun harder in his grip.

"Have you made your decision?"

"Yes."

"Oh please, no! I'll do anything, just don't let me-"

A shot. An innocents body fell to the floor with a soft thud but was she really innocent? The woman's forhead bleeding onto the floor a man had hopelessly wanted to stay clean. The snitch gasped, the boy too shocked to comprehend.

Another shot, down goes the snitch, and another, the boy follows. The armed man falls to his knee's and places the gun to his temple. Everything is silent.

"... I guess I ended up cheating after all... I didn't play by the rules... As consultation, I'll still tell you why I went out here to die." The Shadowed man doesn't move an inch. "Because some how along the line... I developed a craving to take back all the things that I have lost... And simply... Went mad... I suppose..." More of that pleasing silence. "And here... We... Are..." He closes his eyes one last time, just wanting to sleep. He readies himself to pull the trigger but stops as someone starts to applaud. The clapping grows louder as the man walks closer and closer to his position on the cement.

"Bravo, bravo." He stops clapping for a moment removing the gun from the others hand with little resistance. "My name is Moriarty and what you did just now... Was exhilarating. You must stop this absolutely drab attempt at killing yourself and work for me! I'll pay you whatever wage you like." His grin is so wide the jumpered man fears that his face might break in two. "The sky is the limit! So much potential, just to let it all go to waste! It would be a shame. No, a disappointment. And honey, you do not want to disappoint me." It becomes the voice of a killer. Aren't we all killers though? In our own ways? The sandy haired man disagrees, he is much worse than a killer. He disgusts himself. "Not biting? How about an offer you can't refuse. I promise to fix you. I will show you the beauty in this world, in my world. I will teach you how to feel alive again. I will teach you how to be real. I am your lord and Master and you will address me as such. Deal?" He holds out a hand the other stares blankly at. He doesn't know why but he takes it.

Feeling as if he has made a deal with the devil on complete impulse he gives a half smile. Its the madness deep inside him that stirs. Its the boiling seizing up his veins, all of them call in a rythming beat, that 'this sounds like fun'. He loses himself that night. To the inhumanity of the world. Of Jim's world. He found himself reborn. Not as the killer he always was but as Sebastian Moran. And it feels vile in a way that could only satisfy.

"My name is John."

AN: -AU John never meets Sherlock and becomes Sebastian Moran! haha, silly right? How would they go up against Sherlock? I guess they never would. He would have died with the cabby and Moriarty would be off doing whatever with Sebastian. I really don't like Sebastian X Moriarty ship at all but John X Jim is my OTP for all eternity... Am I weird? hahaha~


End file.
